A Simple Stroke of Love
by Aku-Chan The Devil-San
Summary: Alfred F. Jones after facing a betrayal of the people who raised him and told him the would love him unconditionally. Is ready to love again. After moving in to a shabby studio owned by his brother he meets Arthur Kirkland a man who refuses to love anyone ever again or even speak a word for that matter. USUK yaoi Abusive!Past!FrUk (don't like don't read)
1. Chapter 1

I pulled back the sheet on the bed and crawl inside. My muscles cried in pain and my head throbbed it hurt to look at light.

I close my eyes and sigh. In one day I managed to miss the bus, fried off from work because of my damn boyfriend, my painting was 'not emotional enough' for the art comity, and to top it off I came home to a screaming lover who called me and jobless little shit. I heard the door of the bedroom slam closed.

I moan softly, everything sound bombs and loud firecrackers.

"What are you doing?" he snaps.

"Look, I'm tried and had an extremely long day." I say weakly, I sit up a little to see him angrily walk to the bed and stand next to me.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that Arthur?" he says with a cold tone. I frown.

"Well, I'm sorry but I don't mean to be," I said, swallowing hard, my throat feeling like it's going to close up.

"Well you are! Honestly you're lucky that you're even with me. I feel sorry for you. I pity the mother who had to raise and take care of your ungrateful, lazy ass!" he said half screaming at me. I get up and took my pillow. Trying to be calm I said

"I don't need to take this Francis, I am going to go sleep somewhere else and that is final." As I start walking out of the room he grabs the back of my shirt collar.

"Arthur" he growled I turned and narrowed my eyes looking for the man I fell so deeply in love with but all I saw was hatred.

"Francis…please I've had an awful day and I just need to sleep" I pleaded, I hoped today he would listen to me, my friends were growing more and more worrisome when I came to lunch with black eyes and broken wrists.

"Arthur you're a disgusting, lonesome fag your 'friends' are only with you because of pity!"

I wouldn't cry I could take this, the tears threatening to run down my face.

"You think that I love you? That I need you?" He scoffed his grip on my wrist growing tighter. "I only keep you with me because you belong to me!"

"Francis stop" I whimpered as his nails drew blood from my arm. "Stop what Arthur? Telling you the truth! You should know this you should know that I don't need you your friends don't need you we were all better off without you!" He roared.

"Please stop!" I yelped. He let go of my hand and looked into my eyes.

"Arthur you know I'm right!" Francis scowled.

"No. No you're not right! You lo-love me! My…my friends they love me! I'm important no matter what you say!" The tears burned my cheeks me speech breaking and choking me.

"You do this to me every day! You break my heart constantly!" I was yelling I couldn't believe what I was saying! I was loyal to Francis, I loved Francis right?

His eyes flamed in anger as I begun to realize what I had said.

"I'm so sorry Francis…I didn't mean it…I…I love you" I whispered my breath barley leaving my lips.

The last thing I saw him do was reach for the lamp on the dresser and yell my name.

"Arthur? Arthur?! Arthur!" I hear. I bolt up, sweat dapples my forehead. I whip my head to see Matthew. I look at him curiously he almost never set foot in my studio much less in the morning-I wasn't exactly a 'morning person'-He rolled his eyes at my reaction.

"I need help getting your paintings down to the gallery, which opens in…." he looks at his watch "15 minutes," he says. I quickly pull the raggedy paint stained quilt and stand up. "Which painting did you want in there again, it was the three charcoal ones right?" he asks. I nod and walk over and gently take them off the table.

He picks one of them up and leads me down the hallway of studios that are better newer than mine and down the stairs to the gallery.

He puts them on the places where there used to be my old painting. I get a good amount of money from it. I do have enough money to get a flat for myself, a good one with a heater, a kitchen, and a small television.

But I like the studio. I like being near my paintings, they are important to me, no. They are everything to me.

"Well, I think that just about does it," Mathew says looking at the walls with the new art. "Sorry I had to wake you up so early, you can go back to sleep." He says glancing worriedly at the entrance.

I nod and walk back to my studio. It's an older one, with dusty floors and one small window overlooking the constantly overcast city. It has old rosy peeling wall paper that I put back to wall with glue, but did a dreadful job at it. But I like it. It's my own sanctuary.

I made myself a steaming cup of earl grey tea it scalded my lips as I smiled.

I drifted asleep on the cold paint stained floor wondering if I could ever find a light in my life.

I stared at the door to the now open gallery. In there was the brother I hadn't seen in ages and the shame I'd have to face when I told him about mom and dad the people I had defended for so long.

I reached for the cold handle and slowly pulled the door open lacking my usual joy. Matthew stared back at me with cold unforgiving violet eyes.

"We need to talk" he stated cooling his anger.

I stayed silent quietly closing the door behind me to block out the cold October winds. I tapped my boots making an attempt to rid them of the dirt.

Matthew took my backpack and led me to the stairs out of the gallery all the while maintaining the most uncomfortable silence he could muster.

He opened the door to the apartment without his usual Canadian politeness as I stepped through he sat on the couch looking expectantly at the chair across from him.

I sat in the plush seat. "Alfred, do you remember the night I left?"

"yes…" I mumbled averting my gaze.

"How do you think it felt to be betrayed by a family who said they would love me no matter what?"

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

"They didn't tell me why they wanted you to leave; I never knew why you left!" I pleaded hoping for forgive me for my ignorance.

He looked at me stunned "They…they never told you?"

"Not until I…I" I choked as the words refused to fall from my lips Matthew still surprised stood towering over me I was worried for what he would say I knew I had made a mistake.

His arms wrapped around me enveloping me in their warmth "I'm so sorry Alfred I-I thought you knew."

I hadn't known Matthew was gay until I came-out to my once loving parents. They compared me to him, they told me that it was a sin to love another man and Matthew was a sinner who was destined for Hell.

They claimed they wanted to help him to the right path.

So they kicked him out.

Matthew drew back and said "can we put the past behind us? We'll always be brothers" He smiled through his un-shed tears that bubbled at the corners of his eyes.

I looked at him relived the words sitting on my tongue drowned in tears I nodded burying my face in his sweater clad chest.

Matthew pushed me away and smiled "Can I show you around the gallery?"

I wiped the tears away with the sleeve of my bomber jacket. "Yes please!" Matthew laughed and brought me down the stairs.

"Is there a third floor?" I questioned as we made our way through the water color landscapes by Bella and Lars something-or-other.

"Yes but its old and only one studio up there is used."

"Oh? Why's that?" I quirked my eyebrow as I looked at him.

Matthew laughed awkwardly "He values his alone time….a lot."

I dropped the conversation obviously Mattie did not want to talk about the guy who had the studio on the third floor.

Matthew lead me into a room filled with paintings that make me stop. I walk up to the label with the artist's name 'Antonio Carriedo'.

"He claims his boyfriend is a salsa dancer, I have yet to believe him," he says. I smile,

"He is a great painter I will give him that," Matthew says. My eyes glance at a painting of a bowl of tomatoes. "…Ok?"

"Ya… he likes them A LOT," Matthew. He says and pulls my arm to the next room filled with charcoal pictures on canvas.

One of them was of a rainy hill side; there was a London train station with people-but no faces and finally the silhouette of a spindly tree, lighted by the stars and the moon.

I look at them and awe. "It's…" but I can't find the words. It's not _beautiful, _its _more_ than that. "It's, it's….gorgeous."

Matthew looked at them and said "these sell faster than you would think…actually that one there is only for display I sold it five minutes after I opened."

That wasn't surprising they were stunning each charcoal mark shone with equal beauty despite its bleak appearance the drawings shone with an inner radiance.

My eyes were glued to the name under them.

Arthur Kirkland.

"Arthur Kirkland," I whisper, to myself. The name itself was like a song.

Matthew smirked "You've only seen his name yet you already have a crush on him?"

I glared at him Matthew turned back to the drawings he whispered "My little aby brother grew up so fast."

"Mattie!" I whined I knew no one was there but it was still embarrassing I mean 'baby brother' I was taller than him anyway so what if we were a year apart!

I turned to Matthew "Can I meet him?"

"He's a little…socially in adept" he frowned.

"So…no?" I asked.

"You'll probably meet him eventually I mean he is going to be your neighbor" He shrugged.

I followed him upstairs on the way grabbing my backpack as we went up the stairs I heard the soft resounding's of punk music through the halls.

Matthew chuckled embarrassedly "Sorry he's a bit…eccentric."

I wiggled my eyebrows "I _like_ eccentric" Matthew laughed "Whatever Alfred here's your room I'll see you at dinner!" I watched as Matthew walked down the stairs.

I couldn't wait to meet the man called _Arthur Kirkland_.

**Author's Note**

**Hetalia belongs not to me but the all mighty Hima-Papa!**

**Hello! If you're reading this story…THANK YOU! Huggles for all!**

**I would love suggestions and reviews I mean ****_we_**** would love suggestions and reviews my friend and I are both working on this (she goes by Amelia and I go by Akuma if you wanted to know.)**

**I'll see you all next chapter have a good week! **


	2. Chapter 2

-Alfred's POV-

I walk into the studio _my apartment_ it was fairly clean and seemed not only old but untouched. The floor was cold and the wall paper was bleak but it was homier than home really was.

I set my stuff down and reclined on the ripping sofa the punk music fading into the next song each note, each twang of a guitar string lulling me closer to sleep.

-Time skip-

The food tasted strange and…sweet Matthew was looking at me as if I was a joke. "What?" I snarled "You know that that's maple syrup not barbeque sauce right?"

Let's just say my mouth didn't appreciate the surprise and promptly spit it out.

Matthew laughed "What? Too sweet for your taste?"

"Yeah just a bit" I said sarcastically.

"Alfred" Matthew suddenly turned serious "You haven't changed one bit."

"You saying I act like a hormonal, misguided fourteen year old?" I chuckled.

Matthew pondered it for a few moments "Exactly!" He smiled with his bright white teeth once upon a time that smile had been so rare and so elusive I almost killed myself trying to make him laugh (We had just seen Tarzan and Matthew claimed he could swing from tree to tree of course I took this as a challenge rather than a statement…I broke both my arms and he held it against me for _years_.)

I finished what was left of the pulled pork sandwich (still drenched in maple syrup mind you) and got up from my seat beginning to wash the dishes.

"Alfred?" Matthew asked his voice shaking growing more and more timid in each syllable.

"Yeah, what's up?"

Matthew sighed and placed the silverware on the counter "Are…mom and dad…okay?"

I nearly dropped the glass dish I was washing I suppose I had always been under the pretense that Matthew hated no _despised_ mom and dad.

My stomach dropped and just _thinking_ about mom and dad hurt. "Yeah they're…they're okay I mean they wouldn't make us leave if they weren't okay…right?"

Matthew placed a hand on my shoulder "Let's sit down we have a lot to catch up on" He smiled warmly as he sat down at the wooden dining table.

We chatted for a while about trivial things like Matthew's gallery, his crushes and Alfred's newly developed skill to cook meatloaf.

Matthew went quiet all of a sudden and narrowed his eyes "Arthur I see you, you don't have to stalk us."

I turned and saw the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes he was wearing a painted stained band shirt and white (now almost black with color) jeans. His golden hair ruffled and out of place.

But his eyes they reflected the forest, the earth and something I could not place in their beauty. He was beautiful.

But his eyebrows…those were a piece of work.

He shuffled awkwardly inside and handed Matthew a slip of paper Arthur looked extremely uncomfortable and was staring at me unblinkingly.

I was too stunned to say much so I returned the favor.

Matthew read the note his expression darkening with each passing moment.

"What's up?" I asked confused still trying to tear my eyes from the gorgeous creature in front of me.

"Oh…uh…Alfred this is Arthur…Arthur this is Alfred" Matthew said Arthur looked at me I felt like he could read my mind and was suddenly embarrassed knowing that I blushed I turned away.

Matthew coughed a bit "Arthur can't talk" He said quickly as if trying to cover up his words Arthur shot him a ferocious glare.

If looks could kill the whole city might as well be a graveyard.

Arthur blushed profusely embarrassed by his disability he refused to look at me. Matthew looked up "Arthur are…are you okay? You don't seem…very emotional about all this"

Arthur rolled his eyes and gestured to me I supposed this must have meant something along the lines of 'I don't cry in front of others' or 'get him the f*ck out' I'm hoping it's the first one…

Matthew glanced back at the note worriedly "Is he still on the phone."

Arthur bowed his head a single tear falling to his shoes as he nodded shakily. When I saw him cry it felt as if I had been punched in the stomach because he was too beautiful to stain his face with tears.

I blinked to make sure I didn't cry myself.

Matthew reached for the cracked flip phone that seemed untouched, a relic of a time before he couldn't speak.

Matthew sighed "Alfred you might want to leave this isn't going to be pretty…"

I noticed out of the corner of my eye Arthur was silently racked with sobs shaking violently as he crouched into a ball.

"I'll stay" I muttered I sat down on the floor and slowly rubbed Arthur's back he shied away from my touch at first but leaned into me when he realized I couldn't stand to see anyone much less him cry.

Matthew sat in a chair and slowly took the phone off hold on the other end there was an outburst of profanities and screaming Matthew calmly brought the phone to his ear.

"Francis?" He snarled "This is Matthew. Remember me? You once called me your best-friend?"

The voice on the other end grew quiet and menacing Matthew's eyes narrowed in fury "That's…That's terrible! How could you say that I-"Matthew looked shocked and close to crying.

Wait was this _that_ Francis The one we had snowball fights with during winter break, the one we could count on for help with anything, the one that let me cheat on his math test seven times, _the one that tore our family apart_.

Arthur looked up to see Matthew's hurt face anger flashed through his features he snatched the phone from Matthew's hand and snapped it in two across his leg.

The hateful accented voice disappeared, the remains of the phone falling to the cold floor.

Matthew looked stunned, Arthur was angry and I…

"What just happened? Was that _Francis _the _Francis_?"

Arthur looked at me defeated and slowly walked towards the door without a sound.

Matthew shook his head "He hasn't given me the whole story but it must be awful you have no idea how many tear laden paintings I've come across"

He smiled sadly "He cries with no sound I can't tell if he's really sad unless I looked into his eyes and even then they're so emotional sometimes it makes me want to cry just by seeing his pain."

I sat there unmoving on the cold floor. My throat felt as if it was filled with cotton balls. I looked down and at ground and tried to breath, but it comes hoarse and ragged. "That's…." I say, struggling as the words sat on my tongue, refusing to fall from my lips. It killed me that I couldn't help him, all my life all I ever wanted to do was help people, and now I feel I can't do anything to make Arthur happy.

Matthew looked at me "Alfred, I know what you're thinking and if I'm right, _don't even try_ he's a lost cause if there ever was one!"

I looked at him maybe I should believe him he was always right before. But something told me that if _Francis_ had hurt Arthur I could help him.

_I could help him…_

The weeks drifted by with very few sightings of Arthur and when I did see him he shot me wary glances and skittered away.

On top of that I had heard more punk music in one week than I had heard in my four years of high school.

"Alfred, someone's here to see you!" Matthew called up the stairs. I pulled on a new shirt and some ripping jeans and ran down the stairs. I didn't really care who it was just the fact that I had an excuse to leave the dingy studio _apartment _besides groceries was great!

At the bottom of the stairs I saw a tan man with large green eyes and an even bigger smile he and a smaller chestnut haired man were carrying some paintings. Behind them was a guy I hadn't seen since…since well I told my parents…

"Hey Alfred, Long time no see!" Gilbert smiled his albino skin crinkling under his ruby eyes. Matthew was trying to be discreet about his staring but he was practically drooling over Gilbert. I didn't blame him Gilbert was quite the looker.

I smile, happy to see a familiar face,

"It is nice to see you too Gilbert," I say

"How have you been? It feels like it has been forever since I saw you," he says, his face bright with excitement. I have seen him angry and happy, but I have never seen him sad.

I guess it takes a great deal to make him do so.

"Umm, busy" I say, I wasn't lying, but I wasn't telling the full truth.

"Good, busy keeps people on their toes!" he says and turns to Matthew "Well it was nice seeing you and Alfred again; but I promised Antonio and Romano that I would help put Antonio's paintings up. You should see them! They're awesome!"

"Do you ever get tried on the word awesome?" asked Antonio.

"And No! We don't need your help you the hundredth time! Honestly I don't know how people stand this little shit!" the chestnut haired man snaps coldly at Gilbert.

I look at Matthew who looks down for a while, his face looking brighter than a hot stove top.

"One day Romano, you we will be friends, just you wait," he says, like it's a mission of his.

"Fuck off," he mutters as Antonio leads him to the other put of the gallery to hang the paintings.

Gilbert follows them, Matthew watches him as he walked away. A wide smile spread across my face "You like-"I began

"Shut it!" Matthew says blushing bright red "He may hear you," he says quietly to himself. He quickly looked up at me and grabs my shoulders tight.

"Alfred you can't tell him okay," he says, his voice sounding desperate.

"…Why?" I ask, Matthew squeezes my shoulders so hard his knuckles turn white as snow.

"_Please, _Alfred, if he finds out I want it to be from me, okay," he begs me.

"Okay Matthew, if it means that much, I won't tell," I say.

"Thanks," he say smiling.

I look at down at my shoes chuckling "Was there a…" I keeps laughing and says "A little bird in his hair?"

Matthew elbows me in the hard in the rib with his narrow elbow. He hopped a way to go supervise their work _and probably Gilbert_.

-Arthur's POV-

I heard Alfred clumsily follow his brother to the ground floor I peeked out my door to view the calm silence. The brash American was quite the obnoxious one and it was beginning to get on my nerves.

_He pitied you; he was kind to you why do you insist on this hostility?_

The hall was basked in the overcast city grey light leaking from Alfred's flat. _He left the door open_ I knew I shouldn't but curiosity always got the best of me.

I lightly padded to the open door straining my ears hoping to hear no footsteps I lightly pushed the door open with a musical creak.

The studio hadn't been touched by an artist and was clean as a room falling apart could get. There were blankets and clothes piled everywhere along with junk food wrappers. It looked like your classic teenage boys room nothing special really I don't know what I was expecting.

On second thought there was a simple picture frame of a young Matthew with two figures on the kitchen counter closest to the door _probably their parents_ Matthew had told me most everything he tends to do that I think he just needs to talk to someone who will listen _and won't talk back_.

I heard footsteps coming back up the stairs I turn and freeze its only Alfred but _his eyes_ they were just like…like….

"Oh! Hey Arthur finally came out of your studio huh?" Alfred smiled.

_The same exact blue…He had Francis' eyes…_

I ran across the hall back to my room all I could see was his eyes _Francis' eyes…_

When I finally reached the door I grasped the ornate handle and yanked it open shutting it quickly behind me. I sighed leaning against the door _that was close,_ close to what? Would Alfred hurt you? You barley even know him!

I stood up and faced the door hoping he wouldn't be worried enough to come after me I don't know why I would react like that he _can't_ have his eyes I must be hallucinating!

The door handle wobbled a bit as it flew open revealing _Francis_. I grabbed the closest object at hand and on instinct hit him over the head.

**Authors Note**

**Hello sweeties! Thanks for the follows and favorites please take the time to review!**

**What side pairings would you guys like to see?**

**Any plot twist suggestions?**

**Any gender-bend suggestions or characters you'd like to see?**

**See you next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

-Arthur's POV-

I whacked an innocent man upside the head with a cricket bat purely because his eyes look similar to those of my ex-fiancée. _What on Earth have I done!?_

Alfred's upper body had fallen on the softer wood floor in the hallway while the rest of him lay on the concrete of my studio. I poked him with the end of the bat I was still holding to make sure I hadn't killed him. It seems he's only passed out.

Upon closer inspection the head wound bled slightly but overall he was fine he would probably wake up soon…_he would probably wake up soon._ I rushed around and gave Alfred's arms a yank to no avail. _Why is he so bloody fat!_

Well as I leaned down in defeat I noticed he wasn't fat at all but rather muscular _and handsome…Enough gawking like a pubescent school girl Arthur, you have to get him out of here!_

As I heard footsteps come up the stairs I quickly with all the strength I could muster pulled Alfred's head inside my studio and peeked out the door. It was only Matthew he glanced into Alfred's flat confused but shrugged and met his albino boy toy at the bottom of the stairs.

I glared at Alfred's limp figure as I dug through the cabinets for the first aid kit, when an idea hit me.

-Alfred's POV/Mini Time Skip-

I woke up to a dull pain in my head slowly turning to a mellow throb, my eyes wouldn't focus and I felt somewhat nauseous.

That was when I realized I was tied to a chair.

With ugly blue painters tape, I was in my own room I registered the bandages on my head but other than that I was extremely confused…Why had someone broken into my worthless home, treated a new head wound, tied me to a chair and then left?

_Because no one even walked into your room._

I had run after Arthur ignoring his fear opened his door and…oh…I had been attacked with an oddly shaped baseball bat…but why? Was he out to get me? Did he dislike me?

Would someone who _likes _you hit you with a giant baseball bat? I shake my head. And look around, my eyes lock on the door… that was closed. I wince, my head still throbbed with the pain of the baseball bat… or maybe it was a golf club.

_I shouldn't have walked into his room._

I looked at my legs that weren't tied to the chair, "Ha!" I say happily, maybe I can get the tape off easier. I rock the chair with my legs. I push my legs hard on the ground that tipped the chair onto its back two legs which slide on the floor.

My head bounced on the back on the chair. "Shit!" I say through gritting teeth. Now I have a bigger problem. I sigh and set my head on the back of the chair and lay there. After a few minutes of thinking, I wriggled my way out of the tape ripping myself free in the process.

As I stood I glanced at the digital alarm clock glaring at me with angry red light.

_Five thirty…_

I still had time to go see Matt and Gilbert for dinner, I walked down the hall which was eerily quiet and devoid of the punk music I had grown accustomed to I walked down the stairs still stunned from today's encounter _should I_ _talk to Arthur? Should I call the cops? He did attack me…_No. He must've had his reasons right? Food should get my mind off of it.

The door to Matthews apartment was open per usual, _does he ever close his door?_ Inside Matt and Gil sat around the coffee table Chinese between them they were laughing about something or other my mind was still in shock from being taped to a chair it seemed.

"Hey! Alfred!" Gilbert smiled sweet and sour sauce coating his almost white lips he gestured for me to sit down Matthew gave me a look saying 'remember what we talked about?'

"Go ahead and dig in Al" Mattie said I began to eat through most of the food while we laughed and joked talking about our day to day lives soon coming to the topic of Gilbert's many part-time jobs.

"Yeah I'm working at this juice bar now and one of the owners is super-hot I think she's…Chinese or something like that! But I'm still getting over Elizabeta she choose some un-awesome gay aristo-shit over me!" Gilbert went from an excited smile to a growl.

I attempted to hide my surprise but couldn't help but blurt out "Your straight?!"

"Yeah I could never ever see myself with another guy it's just…gross" he frowned _that would explain why Matthew didn't want me to tell him about the crush…_

"Thanks for helping Toris clean up the gallery today!" Matthew feigned happiness hiding the pain of un-requited love behind his gaze.

Gilbert smiled and happily chatted along to the conversation change I sighed in relief but still couldn't seem to get over what Gilbert had said _gross_. I know he wouldn't have said that if he knew but the similarity the word bared to those my parents chanted through my childhood was striking.

"I'm full." I stated getting up Matthew's eyes widened as well as Gilbert's.

"You're full? Your never full is something wrong?" Mattie glanced worriedly at me.

"I'm just going to turn in early" Matthew began to check my pulse and placed his wrist upon my forehead.

"Alfred how many fingers am I holding up?"

"None Matt that's your thumb…" I rolled my eyes.

"He's fine! Here catch!" Gilbert chuckled and tossed a few fortune cookies my way.

Matthew fidgeted as if about to say something I assured him I was fine and turned around only to face green eyes and soft fluffy brown hair the face looked up at me alarmed the freckles on his skin wrinkling.

"Uh…Hello I'm T-Toris…I'm the-the janitor" He stuttered he seemed very shy and walked by me before I could reply, tucking his hands in the pockets of his apron.

"Mr. Matthew s-sir the phone won't stop ringing and I'm no-not allowed to an-answer the phone…" Toris glanced at his shoes feebly "There's a no-note too…" he held a scrap of paper out to Matt.

"Dear Matthew, Francis got the gallery number I advise you do not answer the phone. Sincerely, Arthur" Matthew scowled.

"Who's A-Arthur?" Toris questioned his voice barely above a whisper.

"He's the guy with the studio I told you to avoid, y'know the one that uses it like an apartment" Matthew shot Toris an angry glare causing him to squeak Matthew's gaze softened as he apologized.

Gilbert looked a little surprised "Francis? I used to know a Francis in high school but he went a little…" He made hand gestures obviously stating 'loopy'.

Matthew crumbled the note "Toris don't answer the phone I'll take care of it you can end your shift now." Matt walked out before anyone could argue.

I stayed behind after Gilbert and Toris left _you need to talk to him about Gilbert!_ And Francis…What have I missed…

The clock ticked by the outside growing darker the October breeze rapping on the window panes. All I could think about was Francis and Arthur had Francis hurt Arthur like he hurt us? Or worse did he…

"I WILL SHOVE A HOCKEY STICK UP YOUR ASS IF YOU EVEN DARE!" I heard a muffled yell from downstairs, I sighed I really wanted to know.

I looked up as the old door creaked open, a fragile paint stained hand delicately pushing it open and shoving their body inside.

Arthur stood before me offering me a folded piece of paper before skittering out of the room as Matthew's yells grew harsher.

_Alfred,_

_I apologize for my rash behavior the cricket bat was a bit much, but I suggest you stay away from me I don't respond well to kindness, or people for that matter._

_Again I will urge you to stay away from me or you may as well get much worse than a cricket bat._

_Sincerely,_

_Arthur_

_P.S. You really should clean up, your flat it is rather atrocious._

**Authors Note**

**Hello everyone thanks' for all the reviews, follows and favorites! Froggiecool, Pureh, Lennth, Redthorn19, FlyingAboveTheClouds, Dark-nesey, Sukuangtou, luvz-blonde-guyz, xStarGirlx44, Shadow fairy princess, and Lady-Norie I am very grateful for your support and would love it if you guys would drop me and Amelia some reviews!**


	4. Chapter 4

"A cricket bat… I didn't know he was English," I say shocked, I put the note on the table.

_Was that a threat? Or an apology note? Maybe a bit of both _I thought with a shrug. I quickly walk out and push the door open and look in the hallway.

"Hey Arthur," I call; I felt the heat rise in my cheeks.

He pops out just a little. I swallow, trying to put the words in my head into a sentence.

"I'm sorry I went into your room. I should have respected your space," I say.

Arthur, looked like he was taken off guard, like I slapped him in the face. He blinks a few times and looks at me; he nods and closes the door. I hear the click of the lock.

_I sounded serious right? Like I meant what I said. _I hopeI did. I liked Arthur and never want him to think I am mean. I would love to be friends with Arthur…. Maybe even _more_ one day; but I knew that was unlikely, but the least I can do is being nice to him. I look at my clock again,

_Eight O' Four._

I walk over to my bed and sit down. It was a long day filled with…. What is a good word? Madness? No, about chaotic. Ya, chaotic, but a bit nice. A smile creeps up on my lips, I tilt myself to open sit so I face plant the pillow.

I didn't care if I slept in my jeans and shoes for the night.

-Arthur's POV-

I stood there, looking at the door puzzled.

_He's sorry. Wow, that's… nice._

I shake my head. I have to stop thinking about Alfred and get to work. I grab a blank canvas and walk over to the window. I place the canvas on the window and grab a charcoal pencil and start drawing the skyline that I saw.

_Did he mean it? That he really was sorry? Maybe he was being sarcastic; I mean I did knock him out cold with a cricket bat. Does he hate me? Wait, I don't care…. Right?_

I shake my head. I try focusing on the skyline but all I could think about was Alfred.

His eyes that where like the ocean, you like get lost in them fairly easily. And his smile… it was bright and lights up the room and-

_What the hell is wrong with me?! Why does Alfred have to be so… perfect?_ I thought. I look down that my charcoal drawing. My breath was squeezed out of my lungs. On the canvas was Alfred. I started drawing him. I stand up panicked, _What if someone finds this. _I quickly try to find a hiding place, however, due to the old and small studio there was no room for closets.

I could rip it, burn it, but how? I look in my supply bag, looking for a razor or a pair of scissors. I hear the door click, unlocking it, followed by the sound of the door swinging open. I turn around quickly to see the janitor Toris.

He looks shocked, "S-sorry, I didn't know that this was your r-room," he says, a bit embarrassed. He looks over and sees my drawing. I look down quickly, my face turning red with embarrassment and anger.

_Why did Toris have to come now? Out of all the days. I can't just hit him up-side the head with a cricket bat like Alfred._

He looks at the picture of Alfred. I look at my hand with the charcoal pencil in it. I quickly throw it on the ground and look at wooden floor.

Toris walks forward smiling nervously and leans down to pick up the charcoal pencil, he hands it to me. My face is flaming _I thought Matthew told him to avoid me._

"Well I-I sort of kn-knew it was your room…I-I was just s-so curious and –"I held up a hand to stop him he bent his head apologetically.

I tore the offending canvas from the frame (a bit violently surprising Toris) and placed it downward on the table I took the charcoal pencil from his grasp and began to scrawl words on the canvas.

_I cannot speak._

_People annoy me and provoke me._

_I suggest you leave, unless you promise to leave me undisturbed._

The brown haired man leaned in and began to speak in his Lithuanian lilted stutter "w-what is your n-name?"

I glared at him ferociously as he stepped back.

_None of your business now you can shut up and stay or you can speak and leave._

He nodded slightly and left the room he was quite the timid young fellow.

But I still had a problem…_What do I do with that damned drawing?_

-Time Skip-

I spent the night staring at it but decided I would simply rip it to pieces and throw it out the window (though my cigarette lighter did have a small part in the destruction).

I woke to the soft glow coming from the window I rolled out of the pile of quilts turning to see a mug on the counter with a note.

_Thought I would be courteous and make you coffee this morning! -Toris_

I gritted my teeth and grabbed the steaming mug promptly walking towards the window and dumping it into the darkness of the alleyway.

I wonder why people even _try_ to be my friend I always thought I looked somewhat menacing_ that was when you could actually say the clever comebacks you think of._

And maybe that was because I still had the mindset of my punk phase.

I posted a note on my door explaining my dislike of coffee (though it was sprinkled with quite a lot of profanities) he obliged and everyday throughout the week brought me various beverages finally settling on tea.

The one thing I will never dump out the window.

I suppose we developed the best kind of friendship he doesn't talk to me and I don't make any attempts to communicate with him.

The week had been going pleasantly with no interruptions from my rowdy neighbor and no news of Francis.

If only I could stop thinking about that blasted _rowdy neighbor._

**Author's Note:**

**Sorry about the shortness… :S**

**Thank you for all the follows and favorites from Hetaliagirl2016, miraldea, Zemmno, Hutcchy, FlyingMintBunny89 (I love your username), dream raven13 and CharlRhodes!**

**Please drop a review!**

**What side pairings would you guys like to see?**

**Any plot twist suggestions?**

**Any gender-bend suggestions or characters you'd like to see?**


	5. Chapter 5

_*Backflash.* _**Matthew's**_ POV-_

I walked down to the basement, "Where are you going?" I asked Francis. I hear nothing but the sound of glass bottles banging against each other. "Oh great," I muttered and walked swiftly to the wine cellar, "Francis! If you drink a drop of wine I am going to-"

Francis stands there against the wall with a wicked grin "Drink what Matt?" he asked, feigning his innocence.

My hands balled into fists at my sides "Damn it Francis! You're going to get us both in trouble!" I snapped at him.

He walks over; I press myself against the wall. He was so close his nose touched mine. "Really?" he said, in a voice smooth as silk, he brushed the hair from my face.

My heart flutters with mixed emotions "Really," I said, but the voice sounded weak and ready to break like glass.

"Perfect," He says and he kissed me, just like that. His breath smelled like wine.

_He did drink! That little shit!_

But I couldn't help it, I kissed him back. He lifts me up and carried me out and lies down on the couch. He kisses my collar bone, I shiver. He smirks,

"What's wrong Matthew? Did I kiss you so much you got drunk with my wine lips?" he asked in a sing-song voice.

"You did drink didn't you?" I asked him, he kisses me again. The smell of wine so strong I could almost taste it on my lips. I hated wine; it tasted like old sour grape juice, which is what wine is but still.

_Yes._

"Maybe," he says with the devil in his eye.

"My parents are going to kill you, and then me," I said.

He chuckles and sits up "Speaking of which did you tell them?" he asked.

"What?! No, I can't do that Francis, you know why…" I said and sat up.

"Maybe _I will _tell them," he said and crossed his arms. My stomach drops and my heart stops.

"Y-You're bluffing," I whispered stuttering nervously.

"Nope, they have to know Matthew, that's the way it should be. If you don't tell them, I will and you can't change my mind." He slurred.

I basically begged him "Francis please! They are the least understanding people on the face of this earth! They could kick me out, or worse! Please let me come out on my own time and on my own grounds!"

He stands up and stretches "I don't know Matthew; I mean if you can't even tell your parents, it's like hiding your life from them." He said in a manipulated voice, turning the tables. Now it's my fault.

"Well…. I don't want to hide you from them but… It's the safer that way," I said, trying to reason with him.

"Safer? They've known me forever Matthew it'll be fine" Francis smirked drunkenly and moved to the stairs.

"Francis! No!" I yelled my quiet voice now at a normal volume I grabbed Francis' wrist.

"What Matthew? You don't want me to be honest?" Francis sneered, I knew that all along Francis had just been messing with my head trying to break me, make me miserable.

The worst part was that I let him, because I loved him.

"No…Francis I-I don't want them to kick me out…Then I can't…Then I can't be with you…." I whispered sadly.

Francis laughed cruelly "who said I wanted you with me Matthew?" I simply gawked as he walked up the stairs to speak with my family; I had known this all along. I always knew that Francis enjoyed the misery of others, but by convincing myself that I loved him…

I convinced myself that he loved me back no matter how miserable it made me.

I followed diligently behind Francis praying that he would change his mind when I had reached the top of the stairs shaking with anxiety I shouted "Francis please don't!"

"Don't do what Matthew?" He asked revealing my stunned younger brother at the top of the stairs just getting back from football practice.

"Mattie? Mattie what's wrong?" Alfred asked timidly, terrified that I had raised my voice above a whisper, something he hadn't ever seen me do.

I watched as Francis smirked and drunkenly sauntered into the next room _to late Matthew_.

"Alfred, could you go get some syrup from the convenience store?" I said without looking at him.

"Sure Mattie…but I just got some ye-" I looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes I could muster.

I didn't want Alfred to know about me and Francis lest he leave me to.

"Okay, Okay I'll go get some…" Alfred clarified just as the front door shut I heard my mother's voice from the kitchen.

"He what!?" She screeched.

I walked in faced with the disappointed and furious looks of the people who claimed to love me their words blended together with that ugly smirk of Francis'.  
_Disgust._

_Contempt._

_Hatred._

_Disappointment._

_Anger._

Next thing I knew I was left in the cold all alone with no one to love and no one to be loved by, all because of a man I had given my heart to, a man who had watched me fall in love with him.

And guess what he did?

He betrayed me. Just to laugh at my demise. Just to watch me cry.

I wish I could've stayed to watch my brother grow up, to feel on last hug from my mother, one last smile of approval from my father.

I wish I could've of stayed and loved Francis.

I wish he could've loved me back.

_But no one could ever love me back, could they?_

**Author's Note:**

**Amelia: Hello Everyone! Though Hanukkah is over for me I wish you all happy holidays and can't wait to see you all in the New Year!**

**Akuma: Hey guys! I was thinking of doing a USUK fiction with a Golden-Compass!AU so Arthur is shunned for being a male witch (in the book there are no male witches) Alfred goes to him for a healing potion for his brother and ends up working for him (Arthur's daemon would be a lion while Alfred's is a eagle) Also expect to see a Christmas themed RusAme one-shot for Amelia in the coming time… **


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